Author: Danell teNyenhuis

I’ve spent a total of 4 nights completely alone in the house. No dog, no kids, no Patrick. I do not like it and I’m happy that I still have a while before I have to face that permanently. I am now happily relaxing in a hotel room in Long Beach with Sierra. Our friend Mike graciously agreed to take us sailing tomorrow. We wanted to do something special for Patrick’s birthday. In June 2015 Patrick, Mike and Sierra drove down here to move some furniture into Sierra’s apartment and then the guys met Abdul for band practice. They went sailing on that trip and I know Patrick enjoyed it so I thought it would be nice. 

I started the morning at a mass for Patrick at Newman Center. I realized on the way there that I had not been there since his funeral. Today was a lot easier in some respects but I no longer have that wonderful blanket of shock that muted all the feelings. I really don’t think I could have survived at first if I really had to feel my loss. I think God only gives us what we can handle. A little bit at a time. I was grateful to be surrounded by family and know that I’m not the only one who feels his absence. 

As I drove here today I was flooded with memories of going to visit Patrick in Glendale and also our trips to Long Beach. I have thirty years of memories so they pop up almost anywhere I go. Some of them are significant and others are minor details such as a gas station we stopped at. It’s been almost a year and I still can’t believe that I won’t have any more of those routine moments…reaching out to grasp hands while we drove, talking, planning, dreaming.

In the car I found a comedy station on Sirius, which we never had when Patrick was alive. The station was playing Andy Griffith describing the opera, “Carmen”. Patrick loved Andy Griffith and he would have loved this radio show. Good, clean, humor! The kind of jokes that he could save to tell Father Alan!

I think I have mentioned that Patrick absolutely hated the thought of growing old. I’m sure he is up in heaven laughing about the fact that he doesn’t have to turn fifty tomorrow! I would always tease him that he was “so much older” during the eight months each year when his age was more than mine. I passed him up permanently when I hit 49 and 8 days. Later this year I will hit the big 5-0 and he will be forever 49.

I’m trying to get my sadness out of the way tonight. Tomorrow I want to just remember happy times and celebrate his life. Maybe I can think of corny jokes to tell and make people laugh! Happy Birthday Babe! I hope you are having an awesome party in heaven!

Patrick’s 49th birthday – April 13, 2016

Patrick’s 20th birthday – April 13, 1987. The first birthday I celebrated with him!

I grew up with a seemingly endless supply of pets and farm animals. We had pigs, goats, ducks, geese, a horse, cows, rabbits, dogs, and cats. I’m sure I am forgetting a few! I enjoyed having so many different animals but I also knew they were a lot of work. Patrick also grew up with pets, although they didn’t have as many. 

When we were first married Patrick had no desire to have a pet and I was okay with that. After the girls were born and we moved to Clovis we began talking about it. Patrick considered it one of those obligatory things that “good” parents do. Finally he decided we could get a pet but there were conditions. He got to pick the breed and the name. I was very nervous!

When he told me he wanted a pug I was reluctant. They’re kind of ugly with their flattened nose. He went to pick one out and when he showed me the picture I fell in love! Now he needed a name! 

One of my favorite movies is “The Birdcage” with Robin Williams and Nathan Lane. Hank Azaria plays a gay male maid who is hilarious. The maid’s name is Agador Spartacus and that is the name Patrick chose. I wasn’t thrilled with his choices but I did want a dog so I agreed. The day “Aggie” came home, I left work early and picked him up. We had a plan to surprise the girls. I waited with him in the family room and Patrick picked the girls up. When they walked in, Aggie was exploring the room. There was initial confusion and then shouts of glee when the girls realized that the adorable little black dog was theirs! 

Aggie lived up to his crazy name. He had more personality than any dog I’ve ever known. He regularly entertained us with his goofy behavior. Patrick asked me once if I thought other people sat around and just laughed at their dog. I wasn’t sure about everyone else but we did that frequently. He had crazy mannerisms and seemed to enjoy spinning, especially as Patrick ran the lawnmower. Aggie and the lawnmower. 

Since we have a pool we decided we needed to know if he could swim. He would paddle his paws before he even hit the water and head immediately to the steps. He hated swimming but he would run back and forth barking until you splashed him. 

Patrick and I always thought it was ridiculous when people spent thousands of dollars on medical care for their pets. We would NEVER do that! That changed on Father’s Day one year when a bee stung Aggie. Patrick and the girls rushed him to the Pet ER while I stayed with our guests. He spent four of five days there but amazingly survived and lived many years after that. The Pet ER sent us home with a cool reusable bag, a few other souvenirs and a $2,000 bill. That was the best $2,000 we ever spent!

No strangers ever came to visit Aggie. Every person who came over was a special guest who was there to give him attention. He made sure you knew this and rewarded you with as many licks as you would allow. If you were bald, like Uncle Denny, he would be happy to clean your head if it was within reach. Uncle Denny  Some guests really encouraged this type of affection. ​Desmond and Aggie (Patrick commentary)

​He was super hyper when he was young but became calmer as he aged. At night when he was tired he would run upstairs to Camille’s room (where he slept) and he would come back with his stuffed chicken.  Patrick would say “Chicken time!” and we would all laugh! He really was part of the family! 

After Patrick died I expected to see Aggie looking for him. He never did. Instead he became my constant companion and stayed as close to me as possible. More than once I thought I was going to trip over him. And I had to splash water on him to get him to move away from the tub so I could get out. 

He got sick fairly quickly and within the span of a few weeks he started getting weak. On Friday he could no longer stand on his back legs but he seemed to be fairly comfortable. He slowly deteriorated and by today we knew it was time to let him go. We loved on him all weekend and took him to the vet today. We all cried but we have been through worse so we will get through this too. 

Over the last 11 months I thanked Patrick many times for picking out this wonderful bundle of love. He brought a lot of cheer to our lives during some of the darkest days. I like to think that he ran right into Patrick’s arms and was scooped up and told what a good boy he was for taking care of us all this time. He was the best! Rest In Peace my sweet little boy!

I haven’t written much lately and I was trying to figure out why. I realized that I was falling into that trap of thinking that I wasn’t supposed to be sad. Maybe by now I should only be sad occasionally? One sad post a month? Then I remembered that no one gets to dictate when I am sad or happy or how long I grieve. So I’m feeling a little sad, and that’s okay.

I put a caption on the picture I attached but I’m not sure if it is showing up. This is my picture of contentment, me sleeping peacefully next to him. I miss that feeling of being loved. I know, lots of people love me. That’s not what I mean. No one loves me in the way that Patrick did. I wouldn’t expect anyone to. The love of a parent, child, sibling, friend…it’s just not the same as the love of a spouse or partner. The feeling is that no matter what happens it’s going to be okay. You’re together and that’s really what matters most. Money’s tight, no problem. Work sucks? It’s just a job. I could walk around the house in my sweats with messy hair and I still knew I was loved. We always had each other, and then the girls and always our families.

I still have the girls and our families and I am eternally grateful for that but it doesn’t replace the hole in my heart and that feeling of security. I remember many times in our relationship when difficult things happened. I was laid off from a job and he was there to support me and tell me we would be okay. September 11th, the world was a scary place, but we were together. I have a hard time even explaining how secure my world was before I lost him. It’s still just so hard to fathom that he is gone and a little bit of that security went with him. After almost 30 years as part of “we” it is really hard to adjust to being “me”. The pain comes less often now but it will always be there.

I finally ordered the headstone. It will take a few months to be finished but I am glad that I was able to get it done. I hope that I was able to capture what I wanted so that if people stop by they will remember him with a smile.

The other day I was going through a cabinet and I found a box with bluegrass music and other items. And there were pictures that I didn’t know were in there!

I especially like the picture with the striped shirt. That eventually became his lawnwork shirt and it is still hanging in the garage. I also started looking through other pictures to try to capture that feeling of security and contentment and I found these:

I know the last one is a little blurry but they all remind me of that feeling. The first is the day we came home from our honeymoon and I’m holding our nephew, Gabe. The next is at an Aetna Christmas party and the last is from a trip to magic mountain, probably the second summer we were dating.

This picture is just because he is so cute! 

I really could look at this picture all day because that is exactly how I remember him. And I got this look often! That’s my guy!

This post seems a little incomplete but that’s okay too. I got out a little of the sadness and the pictures made me smile!

Family is the glue that holds me together. They are always near, always checking on me, always loving me. And I know that all of them would do anything to take my pain away. I know it’s been hard for my parents especially. My Dad has told me repeatedly that if I need him he will drive over from the coast and I know he’s serious because he’s done it before.

My mom lives in town now and I’m grateful for that. A few months ago I mentioned that I was taking some shrubbery off my fence and she told me she had the perfect garden tools for that and her and Ernie could come do that. She is 75 and he is 92! Since it rained for so long we never got around to it but she never forgot.

Today she wanted to get mulch that the city was giving away. I went with her so she could get my allotment also. By the time we got there it was almost gone so they were no longer using the front loaders to put it in your truck. We hadn’t brought shovels but they had some there so she backed the truck in and we got out. Three months ago I am confident there is no way I could have shoveled mulch into her truck. I have never been strong and I would have tired out quickly. I was very happy that I could actually do this! There was only one shovel so I grabbed it and got to work. I told mom it was fine but she insisted on finding another shovel and she finally did. We loaded mulch until I told her that was probably enough and we should stop before she was worn out. Who was I kidding, I had already done one workout, I was worn out!

After that we went to my house and went to work on the shrubs. When we were finished I felt a little guilty that I let my 75 year old mom help me. How selfish is that? But then I thought about it and decided that it is pretty awesome that my mom CAN help me. That means she is moving around and I know it’s good for her. So yeah, my mom rocks!

Once again I am reminded of how good exercise of any kind is for you. And I hope when I am 75 I can shovel mulch and tear shrubs off a fence! And, I want to have a body like Cher!

PS Mom did require one bandaid but no bones were broken while she was in MY backyard!

It’s after midnight and Camille is still working on homework. I have made sure I am wearing green because we take that very seriously in our house. Patrick loved to see who wasn’t wearing green and make sure they were pinched. A silly tradition but we always had fun with it. I always thought it was cool that my husband had a special day for his name.

The kids next door loved Patrick. Last year on March 17th I went out to get the mail and ran into our neighbor, Brandie. She told me her son, Evan, a first grader, couldn’t wait for Patrick to get home so he could wish him a Happy Birthday! She tried to explain that it wasn’t really his birthday but he wasn’t buying it. I watched for Patrick to get home and Evan quickly ran over when he did. Patrick told him he was crazy or something and then acted crazy with a silly voice. I used to worry that his behavior would actually scare kids since he would yell things like, “What are you doing on my sidewalk?!” Kids always seemed to “get” him though. Evan and his little sister, Tabitha, would just giggle as he basically ranted st them. I always got a kick out of watching him with them.

Recently it occurred to me that Evan and Tabitha might not remember Patrick anymore and this made me sad. Then I spoke to Brandie right after the last hearing and she told me she had seen the video of me speaking (breaking down) at the sentencing. She said she cried and Evan cried too, which was even sadder.

I know when someone is gone you seem to remember them with rose-colored glasses. My Patrick wasn’t really a saint but he was a good man and a lot of people loved him. As hard as it is to miss him every, single, day, it’s a blessing to know how many people he had a positive impact on (even if it was just making them laugh). People still share stories about Patrick with me and I always enjoy hearing them. My greatest wish is to keep his memory alive and to live life doing things that would make him proud, or just make him laugh. So, as you go about your day, make someone smile, make someone laugh and smile as you remember Patrick. PS Bonus points for pinching anyone who is not wearing green! ❤️😇☘️☘️☘️🍀🌈

#mypatricksday #notthesamewithouthim #grief

I’m back in the swing of school. My week runs from Thursday to Wednesday so my paper is due tomorrow. As usual I have academic writer’s block. I get frustrated because I have no problem filling my blog with thoughts but the academic writing is just so much work! I’m enjoying my class a little more than expected because it is teaching me about substance abuse which will be helpful knowledge in my campaign to change laws. The problem is that I keep getting sidetracked and researching from that aspect instead of what I am actually working on. I finally decided it was time to call it a night when I was trying to determine the differences in pharmacological and physiological effects of substances. I found a lot of references and explanations but I am still just stuck and my first thought was that Patrick could explain it to me. Even though this was not his area of expertise he was just smart and I bet he could have helped me to understand. 
I’ve had a hard couple of days. I haven’t felt well for almost a week. I’m still not really sure what it was but it seems to be better. Grief and the resulting depression can have physical effects so I’m never quite sure. I’ve missed multiple days at the gym so I’ve been beating myself up about that but I also knew that I really just needed some rest. Again, I hear Patrick’s voice in my head telling me that I don’t need to go to the gym every day and maybe I am setting myself up for failure by trying to. This isn’t the first time I’ve been gung ho about something like this so it’s a conversation we actually had multiple times. “Do you really need to ride 50 miles every Saturday?” or “You don’t have to walk every single night.” Again I am reminded of my word, patience. 
With the anniversary coming up I seem to be reliving events a lot. I think a lot about the crash site and try to picture what it looked like, how he landed, how bad it was. And, of course, I DO NOT really want to know these things. I know myself and if you put the police report in front of me I know I would read it so I am not asking for it. I didn’t go to counseling for a while but I’ve started up again because I know these are things I need to talk through. I am able to function with all of these thoughts going on but I am really hoping they subside over time.
I keep going back to the thought that it is so hard that we never discussed anything like this happening. It’s so bizarre to go through thirty years of planning everything together and then suddenly he’s not there. We used to joke about our lack of communication, “Didn’t I tell you we need to leave in 15 minutes for a birthday party?” or “Oh yeah, you got a call last week, it’s on the answering machine.” Honestly though, even though we forgot little day to day things, we knew everything about each other. When he brushed his teeth he was very meticulous and it literally sounded the same every time, like it was perfectly timed. He had great teeth so I guess it paid off. 😊
I guess it’s time to try to sleep. Hopefully I will finish my paper prior to the very last minute tomorrow! LOL 😂

Tonight Camille went to a baseball game with friends. She is having a great senior year, enjoying the last few months. I spent the evening on the couch reading, doing a puzzle on my iPad, playing stupid games on my phone. I didn’t watch TV because Camille gave that up for lent so I joined her. Aside from that, this really wasn’t much different from what my Friday nights used to be. Patrick would usually fall asleep early after a long week and probably multiple beers. We enjoyed the time alone but we usually didn’t go anywhere. We were happy to just be home. I don’t think that is going to change for me. I don’t really feel the need to go out and do things but it’s a little scary to realize that eventually I won’t have anyone coming home to me.

I know I’m not going to be alone yet. Sierra is coming home for a year before applying to law school. Camille is still deciding on college but even if she stays local she will live on campus. I want the girls to enjoy life and make lives of their own. Hopefully they will experience the kind of love I got to experience. I’m going to enjoy watching them plan their futures!

Eventually I will need to decide how I want to spend my Friday nights. I try to stay positive but tonight I’m feeling that it is so unfair that Patrick is gone. I don’t want to make a new plan! I liked the old one! I was happy in my nice little secure life!

We all need a little pity party once in a while, right? I have felt off the last few weeks and I think it’s just the thought of knowing how many happy and painful memories are waiting for me in April. Easter, his 50th birthday, and then the big one year anniversary. And let’s just add April 27th in because I’m not going to forget that his funeral was that day. I’m beginning to make plans on how to spend those days. It’s a little complicated since Sierra is in Long Beach and Camille will be out of the country on his birthday but we do plan to do something special. He would want us to have good days, to laugh and remember happy times. So we will do our best to not spend the days being sad.

I know the second year will probably not be much easier but it will be nice to have all of the dreaded “firsts” out-of-the-way. I still can’t believe he is gone…